Nebulous
by sterek7
Summary: Gary develops a strange fascination with the younger boy. I'm bad at summaries. M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

It's always started like this. With a tense moment of silence. I wring my hands together, proud that I manage to only shake a little. I want to look, to calculate my chances of making it to the door, but his labored breathing keeps me in my place. What did I do to deserve this?

My eyes bore holes into the walls and I count. One. Two. Three.

I move slowly, meeting his heated stare. _Oh. This is worse._

He is smiling. This is never good. Nothing like a real smile, when I do what he asks, this is taunting. He is taunting me.

I am supposed to feel at home here, welcomed. Or at least that's what Mr. Crabblesnitch said he wanted me to feel. But in this dim room, scarce of almost all signs of life, I think he lied.

"You really know how to make a guy feel special, don't you Petey?" He stands now. He walks in leisurely circles around me, like he's got all day. And he might. Concepts like "attending school" don't really apply to him. Gary makes his own set of rules.

"I didn't mean it. I'm sorry." I say with little to no tremble in my voice. I know our parts well, the privacy of our dorm room the stage. This isn't the first or the last time and though my words feel stale in my mouth, the terror in my heart remains fresh.

He chuckles darkly and this is when I realize I should have remained silent. "And do you think I'll mean it when I break your fingers?"

And there goes the normal script, ripped to pieces at our feet. That's not what he says. No, he's supposed to call me "Femme Boy" or some other insult to my small stature, and punch me in the gut, still sore from the last time.

Gary is not supposed to look like he's actually considering his words. Small, unsure sounds escape my lips. I blink at the floor.

"_I can't fucking hear you, Peter."_

Too quickly to be real he is at my side, looming over my head. I can feel the heat from his body seaping through my dress shirt and I'm certain that I am going to burn.

I sputter. "Y-yes."

"Do you want to say I should be institutionalized again, Peter?"

He's moved behind me now, his breath like fire in my ear.

"No."

"Give me your hands, Petey."

For a moment I almost let another refusal slip past my mouth and then I realize that I would rather a few broken fingers than no pulse. I lift my hands from their place at my sides and suddenly they are stone and the world is in stop motion. I leave my hands hanging uselessly in the air, shutting my eyes tightly. I don't want to have this image burned behind my eyelids.

"Please, do it quick."

I can hear him shifting and the sound nearly makes me shout out. "Good boys get to make requests, Petey. Do you know what bad boys get? Do you?" He prompts.

"Nothing." I breathe.

"That's exactly right. You get nothing."

And to my dread, that is what I receive. I don't know how much time passes with no physical pain to give me a sense of time. I can't count the seconds in heavy blows if none come my way. Instead I feel the barest of touchest against my face.

I linger in the feeling before I open my eyes, returning to the sight of a nightmare. He's standing very close to me now and if he comes any closer then my hands will be caught between our chests. I am no longer certain how he plans to hurt me.

His fingers leave my cheek. "You think I should be institutionalized?"

I hold back a whimper.

"You're right." And suddenly the heat leaves those dark eyes, and it is quickly replaced by pain.

_Oh. That's how._

_ "_Gar-" A sharp punch hits me square in the ribs, another to the stomach and my words fall helplessly to the floor, followed shortly by my body.

_And that._

"You just stay down there and think about what you've done wrong, Petey."

I wheeze as he prods me with his boot, pushing me onto my back. I can feel his glare rolling over my convulsing torso. Collar fully buttoned, khakis slightly too long, and yet I feel utterly exposed under the scruitiny of the older boy.

My head lolls to the side, but his shoe nudges my cheek to face him once more.

"I want you to listen closely. Really listen. Hello?" Gary crouches by my limp form and snaps in my face until my gaze reconnects with his own. "Earth to Petey?"

His fingers reach to continue their path along my skin. "There we go. You listening? Good boy."

Suddenly his face is within an inch of my own and I can't think, this breath intermingled with mine, every freckle and scar stealing my view. There is a silence, and I am lost in the nebulae of his eyes. There is something serene here, and I want to stay.

"Disrespect me again and I will beat you within an inch of your life."

And then he is gone, leaving me on my dorm floor, aching, terrified, and very confused.


	2. Chapter 2

I suck the air through my lungs, relishing the burn that accompanies it. Checking my wrist watch by the edge of the pool, I grin toothily. A new record.

I pull my goggles back over my eyes and push off the cement, cutting through the water with precision. My muscles ache, but I ignore it in favor of the rush I feel. I force my arms to cooperate, propelling me in a familiar movement. Each time my face leaves the water I gasp for another breath, and I can hear the sound bouncing off of the empty walls. It isn't out of place. Every opportunity I get I steal away and spend swimming. Nothing can touch me here. Not the bullies, not the jocks, not even Gary.

As I reach the other end I dive further into the water, flipping my body and turning back. My mind feels a pleasant sort of fuzzy as I swim and I let it to wander far from Bullworth Academy. Pausing mid lap, my body relaxes and I float onto my back. I deserve this. I get to have some peace and quiet after everything.

My sociopath of a room mate hasn't laid a hand on me since the "incident", as I have taken to calling it, and it's unnerving. And strangely enough, neither has anyone else. In fact, things have been so quiet that I am close to admitting that I may or may not be terrified. Just a little.

I thought I may be able to gain some sort of insight to whatever Gary has in store for me, what wicked schemes he's formulating, but I've got nothing. He's hardly ever in our dorm, and if he is he pays me no mind. It's like within the space of a week, Peter Kawalski has simply stopped existing.

It's really not much of a change from before. Everyone ignores me. I am invisible, except for the intervals where I'm beaten mercilessly by members of nearly every clique in the school. But right now there's just... nothing. It must be some part of Gary's grand plan, to lull me into a sense of false security. Wait until the water is calm to strike. I wish he would already. Without my only friend tormenting me, It's starting to get lonely.

I let out a heavy sigh. It's not like I chose this. I didn't want the one person who makes this school bearable also make it a living hell. But I suppose it's the hand I've been dealt.

"Um, excuse me? Are you Peter?" My body jolts under water in an attempt to hide myself from the distinctly female voice. I remove my goggles, peer in the entrance, and there she is. The girl couldn't be more than twelve, with messy hair and dull skin. But she has pretty eyes.

"I just, uh... thought you should know that there's a boy stealing your clothes out of your locker."

_ Gary._

The nameless girl lingers for a few seconds then shuffles away, leaving me to scramble out of the pool, nearly forgetting my watch, and running to the locker room. I'm dripping water on to the slick tiles, shaking from the cold air. I try to wring out my soaked swim trunks while stumbling down the hall. Turning the corner, there he is, looking thuroughly bored at the contents of my locker, with my shirt, vest, and khakis tucked beneath his arm.

"What, no panties in here, femme boy?" He comments as if he not trying to destroy my life, flipping through the last of my personal belongings. "I'm shocked."

The little green door to my ratty locker is slammed shut with unnecessary force. He turns to me, I can feel his eyes all over my bare chest and I want to run away and hide, but my legs are clearly not on the same page.

"Well lookie here, Pete. Stronger than you let on, huh?" Gary stalks toward me and I can feel my knees beginning to tremble.

And it's true. While I'm not the picture of physical fitness, I have well defined muscles from years of escaping my troubles to swim. "Who would have thought?" He says as he stands too close to me, a finger skimming down my abdomen. I look around the small tiled room, praying that there is no one still here.

"Gary, can I please have my clothes back?" I ask in a small voice. I don't know where I stand here, so I remain nonthreatening.

"Hm?" Comes the inquisitive noise, and his face mirrors it genuinely. "Oh, these?" My clothes are held in the small space between us and if only I had the courage to reach out and take them.

"But why should I, Petey?" Now the curiosity is gone, replaced by a purely wicked tone, his hand slipping down my side. "I should let the whole school see you like this."

"P-please..." I mutter when he grabs my hip just a little too hard. I can feel my face turning an unbearable shade of red and I want to scream.

"I suppose I could be nice." The fear begins to melt from my shoulders. Wow. This may not end in the death of my (admittedly lame) social life. But before I can attempt to make him more agreeable, Gary hooks a finger on the elastic band of my swim trunks.

"Or." Followed by a dark laugh. "I could take these too, and let everyone take turns getting an eye full. Would you like that, Peter? Would that turn you on?"

There's a long moment of tension, where Gary's skin is too hot against mine and I swear that I may crumble here and never get back up. Classes be damned, bullies be damned, whatever disgusting fungus growing on the locker room floor, also, be damned.

I try to speak evenly, but I can feel my throat constricting. I blink back tears and say, "No."

Gary makes a noise in his throat that is somewhere between annoyance and sympathy. "Oh calm the fuck down princess. I'm kidding." He snarls, shoving my clothes at me."For the most part, anyway."

My arms curl around the bundle of fabric and I feel like an idiot when tears spill down my face without my consent, suddenly thankful that I'm already dripping wet. I sniffle as quietly as possible.

"Ugh, jesus christ. You're such a pussy." He rolls his eyes with an intensity that I'm almost impressed by and tugs me closer to him by my trunks. "Shut up and come here." I yelp from the sudden closeness but quickly relax into the awkward embrace. He wraps an arm around me, and I let him, allowing the rest of my tears to fall on the skin between his neck and shoulder. I nearly stop to question why he's being kind, even for such a short moment, but I don't want to ruin the small offering of comfort.

I ignore my wrinkled clothes being crushed between our chests, or the fact that I'm getting Gary's shirt collar all wet, and breathe this in. He pats my back reluctantly and begins making small circles with his thumb until my pathetic noises stop and I'm able to compose myself again.

He yanks away from me with an ambiguous look on his face. It could be disgust but then again it might be boredom. "Alright, now stop bitching and get dressed. We've got places to be."

I clear my throat with some trouble. "Huh?"

Gary starts toward the doorway but pauses to look back "You, Petey, are going to skip class with me. I've got some stuff I need to take care of in town."

"But why do I have to come?" I question, shivering and confused.

"Because, Femme Boy, I want a toy to keep me entertained."

When I stare back at him instead of moving to get ready, it sparks annoyance in the older teen. "Did I fucking stutter, you moron? Get. Dressed." He makes sure to speak slowly, to make me feel like I'm four again, being taunted on the playground. "I'll be in the dorm. Don't keep me waiting."

At least this time when he leaves I'm still standing.


	3. Chapter 3

When Gary talks about errands, he is not refering to the normal types of errands that normal people have. When Gary talks about errands, he is actuallyrefering to sneaking into the porn shop to steal skin mags, punching an unsuspecting prep off of their bike ( forcing me to ride the pegs as we sped away), and making me an accomplice as he throws stink bombs through windows of an abandoned apartment building the greasers call home.

We're running like our lives depend on it (they probably do) and I can hear shouts in strong accents close on our heels. Gary turns a corner and disappears, the death threats gaining on me. I feel funny, like I might pass out, but I also don't want to get the crap beat out of me, so I run. I take off down a dark alley, sprinting faster than my doctor would recommend. I almost give up before I take another right and find a dumpster sitting against the brick wall like a gift from some higher being. I jog over, lifting the lid, and I flinch.

I stare at my smelly fate, deliberating if the possibility of puking all over myself in the cramped space is really worth it, but then I hear "_**I will fucking kill you, punk!"**_ from around the corner and decide to take my chances. I hop over the metal rim and close the lid behind me, nearly losing my footing. I crouch down and hold my breath.

_Thanks a lot, Gary. _

He's probably hiding out somewhere, snickering at my misfortune. This must have been his game plan all along. I almost liked this, well, whatever it was.

But I need to focus on getting out of here alive. Footsteps draw closer, and I clamp a hand over my mouth so I don't cry out.

"Where the hell did he go?" The voice booms.

"I don't know but if I find him I'm gonna beat his ass." Comes another.

Their indignant conversation fades off and soon I am clambering out of the large dumpster, breathing in the semi-fresh air. I don't have both feet on the ground before I topple over, landing awkwardly on my knee. I scream in agony, falling face first. The the voices draw closer again. I pull myself to my feet as quickly as I can, limping down the alley.

I pay no attention to where I'm running, only on mustering the strength to keep going. Tears are streaking paths down the dirt on my face. I didn't think I could make it this far, but the footsteps are getting louder, they are all I can hear. I am hyperventilating and lost, so when I see a break in the top of a concrete wall up ahead, pulling myself up and over it is my first impulse. I land hard on my feet and muffle a sob, sinking to the ground. I bring my knees into my chest, heart hammering as I listen. The gang runs toward, and past, the wall I jumped.

For the moment I am safe but I also have no idea where I am, though even I can tell this is not the part of town I want to be wandering around in. I give myself a moment to steel my nerves and wipe my face somewhat clean.

The wall acts as leverage for me to pull myself up, and I take careful footsteps down this new alley way. There are a few miserable souls scattered down this long stretch, some with minor possesions, all without a home. I am careful not to disturb them as I hobble by.

I don't know how long I spend weaving between these narrow stretches of road. I move toward the sounds of life, and medical attention for my knee.

What will Mr. Crabblesnitch do? The townies aren't exactly excited to see the students from Bullworth Academy at all, let alone help them while they're skipping school. The principal is going to find out. I'll get detention or even worse, a call home.

I'll handle that when it happens. In the mean time, I need to find help.

A door a few feet ahead of me busts open and a man is tossed out. His attacker yells some profanities at him that I don't quite understand, and slams the door shut. The stranger is clearly inebriated, it's easy to tell from the way he trips and sways, and the way his gaze is undressing me in the filthiest ways possible.

I feel uneasy, not sure if I should run onward or back. The last thing I need right now is trouble, but I take a few cautious steps around him before he opens his mouth.

"You're pretty..." He slurs out. "Wanna fuck?"

I sputter out a refusal and move to limp past him but suddenly my head is hitting concrete, the wall he has shoved me into. I am assaulted by an onslaught of hands and mouth but the throbbing in my head is taking away to much of my ability to keep my eyes open, so I protest with weak shoves and disapproving mumbles. It almost feels good, hot breath that stinks of alcohol on my throat, and I hate myself for thinking so, but it's not enough to stop my poor attempts at a fight.

I manage a halfway decent blow to the side of his face and in turn he slams be back against the concrete and punches me in the jaw. I whimper and slump into his clutches, unable to continue fending him off. "Too easy." The blonde says while shoving a rough hand down my pants.

"Stop." I plead, my heart sinking.

Before I slip into unconsciousness, my attacker hits the ground and so do I. A sickening crunch keeps me awake and I look to find Gary on top of the townie. He is beating him non-stop with a loose brick, hitting his face again and again and I can see a glimpse of the rage that has never been directed at me like this. The once handsome face is now stained red.

"Gary, G-" I choke out before gagging violently, my stomach immensely upset my the pain in my body and the blood gurgling out of the strangers mouth.

Gary stops after giving him one last kick in the side.

"Can you stand?" He says to me.

When I nod slowly he extends a hand that I take with a grateful smile. He pulls too fast and too hard and I can't tell when I make it to my feet because I immediately fall forward again, the world spinning. "Come on, Femme Boy. Up and at 'em." And I try to blink away the feeling of cotton being stuffed into my skull but I can't so I sag against him and cry some more.

Gary lets out a long sigh. "This better not become a habit, Petey."

I black out.

I awake to the coldest water I can remember feeling. I lay fully clothed in the shower of our small bathroom in the dorms. Gary is cleaning the cuts on his knuckles. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing more scars. I clear my throat and his head snaps up. He looks almost relieved. Almost.

"Not dead, I see. It's a shame."

"Thanks for that I guess."

"I didn't do it for you, Peter." His look of displeasure remains. "I don't want to train a new room mate."

The apathy only hurts a little.

He pools water into his hands and brings it to rinse some of the blood from the injury on my head. I hiss loudly and flinch away.

"Look, dipshit, you've probably got a concussion, okay?" He tells me testily and it makes sense but I don't understand it. "Now if you'll fucking hold still..."

His fingers feel good in my hair. I may have moaned but the voice sounds so unlike myself that I chose not to believe it. I hear him mutter something about me being a depraved human being.

He tells me I'm going to be fine and to stop being a baby, then leaves me to get cleaned up. I strip the soaked clothes off of my body and change into dry ones I can find scattered around the bathroom. I manage to get my own boxers and pants but the shirt is Gary's and I look like a child in it. I fold the sleeves back in an attempt to look more dignified but I give up.

My knee still aches, but I can walk if I focus on where my feet are supposed to go. When I limp back into our dorm I realize I must have taken longer than I thought, because my room mate has already made it to the cafeteria and back with food and left some strewn about on my bed.

"I think I'm going to try and get some sleep." I say.

"No, you're not." Gary spits at me.

I stop in my tracks, glaring back at him. "But I'm tired."

"Yeah, and keeping your sorry ass from slipping into a coma is precisely what I want to do with my evening."

I stood there, staring. I imagined all the creative ways Gary could wake me up if I ignored his warning. Like ripping the blankets away. Or blasting that damn whistle from his Halloween costume in my ear. Or dipping my hand in warm water. On second thought, sleeping didn't sound so good anymore.

"Maybe later."

He begins flipping through a magazine as I sit and begin nibbling on what the cafeteria calls "food".

It's going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Hello lovelies! Thank you all so much for being kind enough to read Nebulous. It really means a bunch. Also, I live on reviews, so if you have the time please leave one!**

It is 1:32 A.M. by the time Gary lets me leave the dorm. I haven't slept since I was attacked, for fear of both the physical dangers and the "my-room-mate-is-a-sociopath" dangers.

I stand in front of a Beam Cola machine in the common room, pushing the crinkled dollar bill back into the slot when it's rejected. Things have been tense in the few hours Gary and I have remained cooped up in our dorm. He comes and goes, I stay wrapped up in my blankets.

We've only had a handful of brief conversations, mostly where he asks if I've dropped dead yet. My answer is usually no, but sometimes I don't say anything, because there is a tidal wave of unpleasant emotions washing against the dam I have built in my chest, threatening to give way. Right now I'm about as useful as the dead.

I have trouble looking at Gary. He probably saved my life today, at the very least the remnants of my dignity. But that doesn't stop me from seeing the bloodied face of my attacker every time I look at him.

I'm waiting for it to really hit me that I was almost raped. At the time everything was too fast and too fuzzy, but now in the relative calm of silence between two angry teenagers, the feelings are growing tangible. So thick that I can't swallow them down anymore.

My soda seems so out of reach.

I fiddle with my dollar a few more times in the harsh light, flattening it out on my uninjured knee. I hear shuffling from the doorway as I insert the money again. Jimmy stands there, looking less angry than usual. He's in a good mood.

"'Sup, Pete?" He asks, rubbing his eyes.

"Uh, nothing much. Can't sleep." Lies. A Beam Cola comes clamoring out of the machine. "You?"

"Same. Figured if I was going to be awake I'd play some video games. You in?" Jimmy's stout figure bends in front of the little tv and turns on the console.

"Sure, I guess." I open the can and sip at it, hoping the sugar will get me through the rest of the night.

We sit together on the faded green couch, exchanging no words that don't relate to the race car game, and all is well. Jimmy isn't the friendliest of people, but he's nice enough, and more importantly he isn't Gary.

By the time I've lost my fourth round of races, Jimmy's voice cuts through the room.

"I didn't see you in class today."

"Didn't think you'd notice." _Also didn't think you'd __attend__ in the first place._

He presses hard on the buttons of his controller. "Yeah, got busted by some prefects. Don't you usually go to class?"

"Well, yeah." I reply as my car flips.

"Then where were you?"

I roll the question over in my head. How much trouble would I really get in for telling Jimmy? There's no way he'll rat on me for skipping. But I don't exactly feel like sharing what happened yet.

"In town with a friend." I settle for half truths. Not lying, just not telling everything.

Jimmy pauses the game and looks at me with a grin on his face. "Did you get some ass?"

"No! _No, _not that kind of friend! Really!" My stomach lurches.

He nudges my shoulder. "Come on, Pete. Was it Beatrice?" I don't answer and he continues, "Shit, was it _Lola?"_

I wrinkle my nose with distaste. I don't have a choice. "No, It was Gary."

"Wait, wait, did you and _Gary_ f-"

_"__**No!**_" I stop him before he can put the image into my mind.

"Oh." He says and unpauses the game, continuing to lap me. "You could've just said so."

I let him win because I don't feel like putting forth the effort, and he moves to select a new venue, somewhere in Tokyo. I fidget with my controller while the loading screen leaves us to face the tension. "Are you guys still fighting?" I ask.

"Fighting? I wouldn't call it that. Attempted murder? Maybe." I can see the tightness in his face. I should leave this alone.

"Are you mad at me for hanging out with him?" Well so much for leaving it alone.

His eyes don't leave the screen. "No Pete, I'm not. You can hang out with whoever you want. Even crazy assholes like Gary."

And like magic, he has been summoned. My room mate walks into the common room and stands directly between Jimmy and the television screen. The stout boy's car is driven into a lake.

"You say such sweet things." He taunts.

Jimmy isn't fazed by him but if looks could kill, I would be in the middle of my room mate's funeral instead of this nightmare.

Gary straightens his posture, standing taller to loom over Jimmy. "Let's go, Femme Boy. If you hang around this neanderthal all night the stupid might rub off on you."

I am stuck in place, stuck between my friends.

"Are you deaf or dumb, Peter?" He says, glaring at me.

Jimmy breaks and says through clenched teeth, "Pete can go where the fuck he wants."

The room is stuck in a stand still and I don't know what to do to appease both sides. So I do nothing. I stare with open eyes at the teens and struggle for some words that aren't coming to me. Jimmy is my friend, like the brother who ignores my existence that I never had, but Gary... Gary has the power to make my life worse, if that's even possible.

I get off the couch, moving towards Gary, only to be yanked closer to him by the arm. "Well would you look at that, Jimmy boy? Guess the little bitch knows who his master is."

I want to tell Gary that he is hurting me. That my head is worse again and I don't like it when he shakes me, but I know it'll only make him squeeze tighter.

"Whatever. Go be psychotic somewhere else." Jimmy spits.

I can feel my room mate's hand constrict harder and I yelp.

Gary leads me back to our dorm. My heart hammers with every step we take towards privacy. I don't want to face his wrath alone.

He opens the door and closes it behind us, letting it click quietly back into place, but this doesn't fool me. Rage is licking the inside of his rib cage like flames and he will burst any minute.

My arm goes numb as he locks the door. There is nowhere for me to run. _I'm going to die.  
_

He shoves me and I fall, all useless limbs, landing hard on the floor. I don't let the whimper clawing at my throat escape.

Gary stands over me, shadowed in darkness. "You think I'm a crazy asshole, too?"

I am quick to shake my head in the negative, regretting it almost instantly when my head throbs.

"You sure about that?" He seethes.

I am careful to sound strong. "Yes, Gary."

It's too dark when he runs at me; he is a wild beast coming to rip me apart. I fight him, trying to buck him off of me when he straddles my hips but he is so much bigger than me, and I feel sick rubbing so hard against him. My hands are pinned roughly above my head.

This is too soon, too close. The heat of his thighs on my hips is it's own cage and I consider screaming. I close my eyes, only to replay how Gary's arm tensed, bringing the brick down on townie's face over and over. I hear the crack of my attacker's bone echoing in my ears. I want to curl into myself when his breath ghosts over my neck, his cheek pressed flush with mine, and he whispers, "Do you let Jimmy fuck you?"

He must feel my tears on the side of his face.

"_**D**__**o you?**_" He shouts.

My voice is nothing more than air when I say, "_No._"

Gary is off of me and out of the room, slamming the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

It's been days, _days_, and it is absolutely killing me inside to try and walk around these fucking halls like everything is just fine. It's not. I'm working my butt off to tip toe around my room mate, terrified that he might lash out and break me like I'm the china shop and he's the bull. And I'm beginning to get sick of it.

I get these moments of clarity when I'm away from Gary, ones where I almost believe that I can waltz into our dorm and demand that he leave me the hell alone. But then I open that door and I'm hit with a wave of fear.

There are things I will never be able to control in life. Like how disappointingly short I am, or the fact that Pluto isn't a planet anymore. But whether or not I live my life hiding from this dark monster living inside and outside of me, that is the one thing I should be able to manage.

Yet I still choke on my own bravery every time I go back.

Despite this intense dread residing in my chest since the latest incident (the third? Fourth? I've lost count), Gary hasn't spoken since. Not a God damn word and yet here I am, stalking around the doors to the boy's dorm, working up the strength to go in.

My hands are growing red and raw from wringing them out where I stand, leaning against the cement wall. I stare at the abandoned hop scotch scribbles on the cement, and look right through them. My mind is uncertain about what it wants me to do, but leaves the awful feeling as if hiding from my problems _isn't it._

That's all Gary is, in the grand scheme of things. A problem. Yeah, a tricky equation meant to be solved with critical thinking and a lot of work. That of course leaves the question: what is the solution, exactly? What is my end game here? I don't want to get him in trouble. I just want him to not be a threat constantly nipping at my heels. I want to be able to sleep through the whole night without wondering if I'll wake up at the other end of that stray brick.

I continue to eliminate possibilities when something is thrown at the back of my head. I wince and bite back a curse, looking to see some jocks a few yards away choking back laughter. I look to see what they've thrown, and come to a sudden realization that it's actually a fire cracker.

I dive out of the way, just avoiding being a victim of the blast, though I can't say the same for the concrete, or the stinging scrapes left on my elbows.

"Well if it isn't Kowalski."

Ted, the leader of the jocks, stands in front of me with four other large teenagers. I want to crawl into a hole and die. "Alright you guys, you found me. Now, if you don't mind?" I say, getting to my feet and starting toward the dorms. I didn't really expect him to let me go, but the huge hand that swings out and grabs me by the shirt collar still surprise me.

"Hold it." He manhandles me so I stand in the center of the semi circle they have created.

"Come on, Ted. Please just let me go." There's a mild level of exasperation to my voice. Yes, in fact, I do have a death wish.

"You're going to stay right here and fucking deal with it you disgusting little sicko." He sneers.

Now, the jocks aren't exactly the friendliest kids on the block, but they usually stick to insults like "loser" and "wimp", and when they're feeling especially adventurous, "Rumpleforeskin". But there's something in the way he speaks these words that keeps me in my place. That and the massive hand weighing down on my shoulder.

"We've heard talk lately." Ted says threateningly. "About you, Kowalski. Haven't we, boys?" His lackeys all nod their heads in agreement.

My eyes shift nervously. "What kind of talk?" I ask.

Ted pulls me just a little closer as he grits through his teeth, "The kind where you're a filthy damn faggot and you've been taking pictures of us in the locker room showers."

I nearly pass out. No way am I getting out of this alive. I sputter out strings of incoherent words, swearing up and down that I never did anything even remotely close to the allegations. But they only converge around me, malice on their faces. I have to think, and fast.

I go completely limp, to the surprise of Ted, who drops me. They all pause for the briefest moment, wondering if I've fainted before the beating's even begun. I use this lull in violent intent to quickly scramble on my hands and knees between them, dragging myself up and sprinting to the dorms.

I throw the door open, hurtling down the hall and into Jimmy's room instead of my own. I can hear them barreling through the door just as I hide myself in the closet.

My breathing is growing increasingly out of control, shallow in my chest. It's too dark in the small space to see much, but I can feel various articles of clothing underneath me and I know it must be messy at best. The jocks could have gone down the hall by now, maybe even looking for me in my dorm. God, I hope Gary isn't there.

I wait. For how long I'm not certain but it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes before Jimmy stomps into the room, throwing his bag onto the creaky bed and shutting the door a bit too roughly. I can't think of what you're supposed to say when you're hiding in someone's closet, so that's how the older boy finds me upon finally opening the door, gaping for words, looking flushed and scared.

He takes it well, really. His face is deadpan and he doesn't flinch or yell. He just stares for a long moment, tossing the situation around in his head. He reaches out a hand and pulls me up, giving me extra support when my numb legs wobble.

"So. Mind telling me what's going on?" He asks with a neutral tone.

I pretend like I'm very interested in wiping the dust off of my slacks when I say, "Oh you know, just trying to avoid being beaten to death. The norm." I almost get the whole thing out with no tremble.

I try to act casual and force out a laugh, but Jimmy doesn't buy it. His eyes stay on mine, steady. "Really. What's wrong."

I visibly deflate, closing my eyes against the red hot injustice I feel in my bones. I move to sit on the edge of his unmade bed, leaning against my knees with bloodied elbows. I rub my face wearily, letting out a shaky. "I guess someone's been telling people that I, you know... bat for the other team?"

"Okay. And?" Jimmy pushes.

I look everywhere but him. "Um, I do." I try not to think about the irony of me literally just being pulled out of a closet.

"Alright but that's not what I'm asking." He looks completely unshaken and it's times like these where I'm proud of my choice of friends. "I mean what happened. Is someone giving you shit about it?"

"Um, well, yeah. Ted and his boys-" Jimmy rolls his eyes and starts to say something, but I stop him, "they think I've been sneaking pictures of them in the showers."

He hesitates. "Oh. Wow. You are so screwed."

Mentally redefining the word "friend".

"Yeah, thanks Jimmy. Couldn't have figured that one out myself. Who needs a 4.0 GPA when I've got you?" I snap.

He holds his hands up in a sign of peace. "Alright, alright, calm down."

I look at him incredulously. "Calm down? _Calm down? _You're kidding, right? How can I do that when everyone is trying to kill me?" I leap to my feet, a nervous ball of energy. I walk past him and begin pacing the hardwood floor. "This isn't exactly the time to _fucking calm down, Jimmy!" _My voice cracks as I gesture wildly.

_ "_Look, I get it. You're freaking out. But boucing off the walls in my room isn't going to fix anything. Do you know who started all this?" He asks.

I think hard, trying to remember anything I could have said to a student at this forsaken school. I've never told anyone outright. Bullworth just wasn't the nurturing kind of community that makes you want to come out. But maybe I didn't have to. Maybe my eyes just lingered too long on boys, offering me their sweet smiles. Or... "It's the pink, isn't it?" I say, looking down at the offending garment.

Jimmy offers a noncommittal shrug and a frown. New dress shirt it is. "Maybe someone's just starting shit."

I stop dead in my tracks. I think I feel a taste of real rage, the kind I've only witnessed on others. There is only one person who would decide to ruin my life just for fun and because the universe thinks it's terribly funny, I happen to share a dorm with him.

I storm out in the direction of my own room, choosing not to hear when Jimmy calls after me.


	6. Chapter 6

Entering my room feels easier than it has in months, with no fear to burden my shoulders. I walk to where my room mate is seated at his desk. I am a new person. Gary must not be able to see this change in me, or it's hidden behind a steely expression of murderous intent. I never believed wanting to kill someone would feel this relieving. I repress the urge to laugh. Gary must find something humorous as well, because he chuckles darkly and stands from his seat, putting two large hands on either of my shoulders.

"So, Petey-boy, I heard you like dick?" He sneers.

I smile at him.

Before I can change my mind, I swing my fist back, gaining momentum to slam it into Gary's chin. I can see the utter shock in his eyes as his head jerks violently to the side. For a moment all is calm.

I almost want to be the bigger man. To walk out of this room and let him stew in his own hatred. But I would just do to the same thing somewhere else. I have sunk this low.

"Fuck you." I'm grabbing his shoulders to bring his abdomen down hard on my knee. The air audibly leaves his lungs and I can see a familiar flame spark to life in those dark eyes. He lunges at me, albeit slower than his usual self. He drags me to my knees, climbing over me and trying desperately to claw at my face. I feel the sting of scraped flesh on the side of my face and this gives me the incentive to twist in his grasp and begin beating my swollen knuckles into the side of his head again, again, _again, _and now I am the one with the brick in the nightmares that reside behind closed eyes. This does nothing to stop me. If anything I swing harder and come back with blood on my hands, uncertain of who it belongs to but not caring.

_"I'm going to kill you, Peter." _Gary wheezes behind bloody lips. I scream when his scrambling fingers bore into my eye, squeezing them shut and thrashing my knees up into him. His menacing smile melts off his face when I hit his groin with a lucky blow. His hand stills near my face and I bite down as deep as I can.

The noise that tears it's way through Gary's throat is that of a wounded animal, loud and painful to the ears. I stare in horror as he leans away from me, cradling the spouting hand to his chest. No flesh is missing but I can see the small black holes where my teeth sunk. My shirt is red with his blood and it's matted in his hair.

I mean to run when Gary looks down at me, face blank. I mean to scream, but something holds me there. I have spent my entire life running. From the inevitability of being a disappointment to my family. From _fucking _Bullworth, and from what is supposed to be my home here. No more. I hold his gaze defiantly and I can feel something tickling at my chest that might be pride. I don't break this, even when an elbow comes lunging toward my face. I let it happen. I hear this sickening crack for the second time in my life, and I have to say that experiencing it first hand is not as pleasant as it is to be an innocent bystander. I cough out the fluid flooding my throat, and I know that my nose is broken from the bubbling of blood in my nostrils. I laugh. I sit there with Gary straddling my front wrapping his uninjured hand around my windpipe, _squeezing, _and I use the precious air I have left to laugh in his face.

I begin to pass out when Jimmy and two teachers bust into the room, pulling the older boy off me. Jimmy is hovering over my face, practically screaming questions at me. But I remain silent, letting this wave of unconsciousness wash over me. I almost feel bad for not answering.

When I wake up it's in the infirmary. I'm laying on a small cot in the corner and everything is too bright. I can hear the nurse's pencil scratching notes on her clipboard from where she stands just a few feet away. Plain. Pretty. She hums beneath her breath and for some reason or another it makes me feel a little bit better.

I move to get up and the whole world turns into fuzzy specks of gray in my eyes, so I relent, blinking my vision back. In retrospect that was probably an awful idea.

"Nice to see you awake, Peter." Says the nurse with a small smile. She doesn't look in my direction. "Your nose was broken, but we set it while you were passed out. Besides that, you've just got a few bumps and bruises. It'll be better in no time."

I feel the tender area on my face with light fingertips, only to find a thin bandage covering the real damage. The small scratches on my forehead and eyelids feel greasy, like they've had ointment rubbed into them. I'm lucky I didn't lose an eye, though I'm not particularly worried about my physical well being right now. Everything is different. I stood up for myself, and that is something I refuse to regret. But what now? I can't let Gary walk all over me, but if that involves getting sent here every time I don't... No. It doesn't matter. I'd do it again.

"Now, Peter-"

"Pete." I interrupt. "Please, I go by Pete."

She begins again, "Alright then, Pete it is. Now, you know I can't let you leave here without asking some questions first."

I sigh, wincing when a bruise on my side throbs painfully. I knew this part was coming. The nurse takes this as a sign of compliance and begins, "Who instigated this fight?"

"I threw the first punch." I admit. She looks surprised.

"Oh, alright. Well, the other student, Mr. Smith, has refused to answer any questions about the incident." She writes some more stuff on her clipboard. "So unless he does and decides to press charges, this can be sorted out by the staff here at school. Do you consider living with this boy to be an unsafe environment?"

I lean up, my legs shifting off the side of the bed. "No. It's fine. We were both just worked up. It won't happen again." I say, unsure of how honest I'm really being. But I do know that I can't relent to Gary now. Our dorm is the closest thing to home I have, a shitty one at that, but I'm too stubborn to give even this up.

I push onto my feet, careful when I tremble, and thank the nurse for patching me up as I leave. She doesn't seem to feel the need to ask any more questions, and for this I am also grateful.

I return to my dorm with only slight trepidation. For the most part I manage to look put together. No one whispers about me as I walk by. I'm almost through the door, to safety, to privacy, when a hand jerks me back from the handle. I tense, ready to throw punches. But it's only Jimmy, giving me the most exasperated look I've ever seen on him.

"What the _fuck,_ Pete?!" He emphasizes his words with a small shake to my arm. "For such a smart kid you can be really stupid, you know that?" He drags me into my own dorm after affirming that it is, in fact, deserted.

He closes the door behind us and turns back to me, expectantly. The light from the fading afternoon is dim, so I make my way over to Gary's desk to turn on the lamp. I still don't speak. "Well? Are you going to answer me or did he knock your brains out too?" I can hear the annoyance rising in his voice.

"What do you want me to say? I'm pissed. He deserved it." I bend down to pick up stray articles of my clothing from the hardwood floors, tossing them into a corner by my bed.

"Of course he fucking deserved it, Pete, but you can't just run around picking fights with people who can end you _and also happen to know where you sleep._" Jimmy hisses through clenched teeth, his black hoodie scrunching up where his shoulders are raised, hands gesturing continuously.

I shrug and Jimmy rolls his eyes. "Fine. Fuck it." And he moves to leave.

I speak quietly, "I needed it."

He pauses for a moment, already grabbing the handle. "You need some common sense." He sighs.

And the door is slammed behind him.

I settle for busy work after he leaves, making my bed and even going as far as to start a load of laundry. Maybe it's to get my mind off of how angry I am with everything. Or maybe it's because I can't sit still knowing that my room mate could walk in at any moment.

By twelve at night I'm certain enough that he won't be coming back tonight to drift into an uneasy sleep, ribs aching.

My dreams are no less unsettling.

I find myself trapped in a box of mirrors, too small for a person. I don't know how I got here but I want to get out. Quickly. I can see the walls closing in and I can't see why I haven't been crushed by the cool glass.

I search with desperation for some crack in the surface, some weak spot that I can break. But everywhere I turn I'm only confronted by my own panicked face. My fingers skim the surface, leaving smudges over my reflection, but every corner is as smooth as the last and I begin thrashing against it with as much room as I'm allowed. Nothing happens. I am still caged here. I can feel tears at the corners of my eyes when the lights disappear.

The mirrors are still there, I can feel them. I try my best to catch my breath. In the darkness I see a glint of light on the surface before me, and surely, more light begins flooding in from some unknown source.

This is slightly better until I look back at my reflection. My skin has been peeled from my face and even though I'm certain that I haven't moved at all, the figure opposite me is flinging itself against the barrier with abandon, leaving splatters of blood behind, shrieking. I feel the voice all around me, in my own throat. The muscles of it's face, my face, have begun to split and peel further around the splintering glass within it. I am transfixed by the image.

There is nowhere for me to run, even if I could move my legs. I am forced to watch as the mirror shatters, shards flying. I can feel some cutting into my cheek, some in my fingers. I look down in abject terror, watching the blood pool in the palms of my hands. I scream.

The sound follows me back into consciousness. Someone is straddling my hips. Shooting into an upright position, I come face to face with Gary Smith.

_**Author's note:**_

**TAKE THIS SPECIAL LONGER CHAPTER BECAUSE I LOVE YOU ALL. I honestly only expected a handful of viewers when I started Nebulous but here we are, and I'm so excited for all of the possibilities. First of all, thank _you_ for reading! But I'd like to give a special thanks to the following people for leaving such excellent reviews:**

**- Auspicious Autumn**

**- bootysnatcher (ayyyyyyy)**

**- SwedishFinns**

**- Deja Vu**

**- And lovely anon**

**They've been very uplifting to read and also wonderfully insightful! To those of you who haven't already, leaving reviews is what motivates me and keeps this story going! You can all find me on tumblr as motherfucking-breadcrumbs 3**


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